Friday, November 12, 2010

Absolutely 666 Street

There are these small, very small interruptions in life that come around and go. Yes, they are small and they are just as fast. The only reason I can think of for us not noticing them is that they do not make a whooshing sound. But, the other day, I was in a train and I actually noticed one or rather, heard the whoosh so to speak. When you have been sitting idle for 4 hours and you don’t even get to drive, you get to or start noticing things around you, be it the people, be it the places you go by or be it the scar that you believed never even existed. What I actually noticed was a beggar standing just next to me and he was looking at me. He did not say a word; he just stood there and looked at me. That freaked me out a little. I figured he must be dumb. Nevertheless I kept looking through the window, until I noticed his leg, the only one he had, that is. Being dumb on one leg seemed too much to me. I gave him 2 Rs and looked at his face. He spoke, and he asked me to give him 5. Money ‘talks’ trust me when I say that. I refused and told him that 2 were enough. He walked away, and all of this reminded me of a quote I had read some time back,

“If you lend someone 20$ and never see that person again, then it was probably worth it.”

Ten minutes later, another one came up and asked for some money so that he could buy some warm clothes for himself. If he was faking it, he was doing a darn good job because I did give him a rupee. He didn’t say anything and walked away. In the next one hour the rate was around one beggar every 15 minutes. This suddenly made me wonder about the passenger to beggar ratio on the train. After a while all of this started to get a little irksome. There was no more sympathy for them, no matter how torn you are, I wouldn’t, I just wouldn’t. I actually abused one in my head when he stepped on my foot. When all of this subsided, I was back to my music and the window. But, after a while I was actually interrupted by this strange thought that I was all heart for the first two beggars and there was nothing, nothing at all for all the other ones. They were just as much in need of money as the other two or the other two weren’t just as in need as all the others. This made me wonder as to how did this so called sympathy in me hide all of a sudden. Not that I was more humane an hour back than I was later, or maybe it was. There was suddenly, this side of me that I had never noticed before. One moment I would try to sympathise with a guy who was standing on one leg pretending to be dumb, on the other I wouldn’t mind abusing them. This small little beast in me was a little something new. I tried remembering whether this would happen all the time and the answer was a resounding Yes. I tried remembering whether this happened to my friends. It sure did.

I tried looking at the bigger picture after that. This beast in us actually surfaces so many times during a day, while driving, while watching a hot girl with someone else, while at college, while watching cricket, while playing it and trust me when I say while being with family too. There are these number of instances I could remember myself being a schmuck for no reason whatsoever. There is this corner of my heart that is so evil and so shrewd that it didn’t even let me know about it. I would wish ill for someone, I’m sure we all do that so many times. I wouldn’t exactly respect the freedom given to me by my parents by doing something or the other. I wouldn’t really listen to a friend just because I know what ego feels like. I wouldn’t listen to my mother just because she is my mother. This is insane. This sure is bad, I guess. This is something I never knew could interrupt me from being a fool that I am. The only thing that I doubt is that this is something I might think about only once in my life and never again. This is something that I don’t think I or anyone for that matter can change. This is what we are. This is what is meant to be.

Today, we swear not by Jesus, but by Lucifer.

666 is the mark of the beast.

No comments:

Post a Comment